


12 Disasters of Christmas + 1 Christmas Miracle

by NarryMusings



Series: Married at First Sight [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, First Christmas, M/M, Mild Christmas Smut, this is basically just a Christmas Special
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 14:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17326658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: He and Harry are hosting Christmas this year, is the thing. Harry had mentioned back in November that he was worried how his mother would fare hosting dinner all by herself for the first time since Robin had passed away, so the original plan was for them to go up there for Christmas Eve so that Harry could help. Then, come the beginning of December, upon dreading having to deal with two Christmases between his own parents — they’re all friends, sure, but Christmas is a whole other Thing — Niall had more or less had an epiphany which had eventually resulted in both of them calling their respective parents to suggest that they, he and Harry, could host Christmas for everyone.Needless to say, their parents had been on board immediately.And so- They’d planned and calculated everything; the flights, the AirBnBs, the amount of food they’d need to serve 16 people — the whole nine (or should it be 12, seeing as it’s more festive?) yards.But then, at precisely 9:03 a.m. sharp on December 23rd- That’s when all hell decides to let loose, because thus begins:The 12 Disasters of Christmas.





	12 Disasters of Christmas + 1 Christmas Miracle

The week starts off perfectly. Everything is in order, precisely scheduled right down to the exact time that the turkey should be put into the oven on Christmas Day for dinner to be served at 5 o’clock sharp. Everything has a time, everything has a place, and everyone has a place to stay — just the way Niall likes it.

He and Harry are hosting Christmas this year, is the thing. Harry had mentioned back in November that he was worried how his mother would fare hosting dinner all by herself for the first time since Robin had passed away, so the original plan was for them to go up there for Christmas Eve so that Harry could help. Then, come the beginning of December, upon dreading having to deal with two Christmases between his own parents — they’re all friends, sure, but Christmas is a whole other Thing — Niall had more or less had an epiphany which had eventually resulted in both of them calling their respective parents to suggest that they, he and Harry, could host Christmas for everyone. [The amount of time it had taken for all sets of parents —and then, even siblings — to agree was almost non-existent.]

Needless to say, their parents had been on board immediately. 

And so- They’d planned and calculated everything; the flights, the AirBnBs, the amount of food they’d need to serve 16 people — the whole nine (or should it be 12, seeing as it’s more festive?) yards.

But then, at precisely 9:03 a.m. sharp on December 23rd- That’s when all hell decides to let loose, because thus begins:

The 12 Disasters of Christmas.

+

[Disaster One: December 23, 2018]

It starts with a phone call from Greg. He, Denise, and Theo had to book a separate flight from Bobby, Maura, and their respective partners — and Greg’s flight was going to be delayed. By three hours. Which wouldn’t normally be a problem, except that Harry had booked a last minute photoshoot for the exact time that Niall would have to be at Heathrow to pick the three of them up. And they only have one car right now because Harry’s is in the shop until Boxing Day. So-

“I can’t make them take the tube, Haz,” Niall sighs. “That’s rude. It’s Christmas.”

“I know,” Harry murmurs. “I know, but-“

“Theo gets nauseous on the tube.”

“I know, but-“

“Plus it’s probably going to packed full of people traveling down there and he’ll already be fussy from the airport.”

“I know,” Harry insists. “But I need the car to transport all of my gear.”

Niall groans, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know.”

“Could they get a Lyft?”

Niall blinks thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose. Yeah- And then I could just send Greg the money for it afterwards.”

“Yeah.”

“Although- Lyft and Uber will probably be incredibly busy also.”

Harry hums. “And they’ll surge the price.”

“I could drive you to your shoot,” Niall suggests. “Then I can pick up Greg and the lot, drop them off at the AirBnB — or bring them here first, whichever. And then I can pick you up when you’re done.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, nodding his head. “Yeah, that could work.”

“Perhaps before we do any of that we go to the garage and light a fire under Reggie’s arse to get your car fixed.”

Harry laughs. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

Niall smirks as he cards a hand through Harry’s hair. “It’s cute that you think I’m kidding.”

“We’ll be fine, Ni. Everything will be fine.”

Niall hums.

“It’s not the disaster we thought it would be, it’s just- A hiccup. It’s a hiccup, that’s all.”

Niall nods, this time. And then leans in to press a kiss against Harry’s cheek as a silent thank you for reassuring him that this was only a small disaster and that everything will be fine. 

X

[Disaster Two; December 23, 2018]

Everything is not fine. At least- Not right now. Not for Anne. 

Harry had been the one to take care of setting everyone up in AirBnB’s for the few days that they’ll be here, seeing as they don’t exactly have the room in their own flat. When Harry had first started to search for places in the area, there had been tons of would-be vacant flats due to people being away for the holidays. But now, a day and a half before Christmas, upon realizing that Harry’s request for one AirBnB in particular hadn’t actually gone through, there are exactly: zero.

There are zero places available for Anne to stay. Zilch. Nada. 

“I mean, I hate to say it-“

“Don’t say it,” Niall says, shaking his head as he takes a sip of his coffee. He peeks into the living room, for a moment, to see Anne observing some of Harry’s photos that are splashed across the wall.

“She could stay here,” Harry whispers anyway.

“Haz,” Niall murmurs, turning away from living room to look at his husband instead. “You know I adore your mother, right?”

Harry nods.

“But she can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not big enough, to start. It’s barely big enough for the two of us anymore, which is why we bought the house,” Niall points out. [If only the previous owners had been willing to move out before Christmas instead of after New Years.]

“She could have the bedroom,” Harry says. “She won’t take up that much room. And we can just sleep out here.”

“Harry-“

“It’ll only be for sleeping, really, if you think about it. And it’ll only be for a few days.”

“Hazza-“

“We’ll be out all day tomorrow anyway, right? And then everyone will be here Christmas Day, so-“

“Harry!” Niall says, in a whisper-shout sort of way. He takes Harry’s face in his hands, strokes his thumbs over Harry’s cheeks. 

Harry blinks at him. “What?”

“Every now and then even living with you is a lot. My stuff plus your stuff is a lot, petal.”

“I know,” Harry murmurs, a smile tugging at his lips as he sort of begins to preen. “But I also know that you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And, well, Harry isn’t wrong — which is why Niall sighs, dips his head forward to press their foreheads together. This is a disaster, Niall can feel it in his bones. 

“Go on,” he says softly, kissing him gently. “The bedroom is all hers.”

X

[Disaster Three; December 23, 2018]

One minute, Niall’s biting his tongue to keep from making a sultry joke about Harry being on his knees next to the tree in front of Harry’s mother — and in the next minute, Harry’s looking at him like he can’t find his favourite camera. [Niall knows this from experience.]

“The tree is dying,” Harry says, a while later.

“Dying?” Niall asks, because the tree looks perfectly fine.

“A few of the branches up at the top have gotten brown, and some of them here at the bottom are so brittle that they’re breaking off.”

Niall pushes himself to his feet just as Harry does too. “You just watered it though, yeah?”

“Yeah, but- I don’t think that’s gonna save it.”

Niall hums. 

“I mean- Maybe it’s not a big deal. It really only has to make it two or three more days.”

“Will it though?” Niall asks, because it feels as though everything else has gone wrong today. 

Harry sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know.”

“We need a tree for Christmas Day, Haz. We can’t not have a tree, that’s- We need a tree.”

“We could get a new one?”

Niall shakes his head. “We can’t get a new one. Christmas is a day away. Where are we even supposed to find one? And besides that- We already spent money on this one and decorated this one. We can’t get a new tree. We don’t even have time to get a new tree.”

“You’re proper freaking out,” Harry murmurs, carding a hand through Niall’s hair.

“Of course I’m freaking out,” Niall scoffs. “Our tree is dying and Christmas is only a day away.”

“You could feed it,” Anne interjects, then. 

Niall blinks in confusion when he looks at her. Harry arches an eyebrow. 

“Just- Give it some corn syrup in the water,” she tells them. “That should do the trick.”

“That’ll keep it alive?”

“It should, yeah.”

Niall sees Harry look at him out of the corner of his eye, so he looks back. And then he shrugs because, at this point, anything is worth a shot. And there’s no way in hell he’s going to let Christmas be ruined because they don’t have a tree. 

X

[Disaster Four; December 23, 2018]

“Is it odd that I’m sort of exhausted after today?” Niall asks through a rather obnoxious yawn as he enters the living room. 

Harry hums from his seat on the sofa, clad only in a pair of red and black plaid pyjama pants — and only because Niall won’t let him sleep naked since his mother is right down the hall. 

“I don’t know if I can handle any more disasters.”

“C’mere,” Harry murmurs, motioning him over with the tilt of his head.

“I’m being serious,” Niall pouts as he walks closer. “No more disasters.”

Harry laughs. “Don’t look at me, I’m not in charge.”

Niall rolls his eyes despite the smile on his lips — and then he’s giggling and pretending to protest, pretending to fight back, as Harry pulls him down over his lap. He goes easily, though, until he’s straddling Harry’s thighs, until he can feel how hard Harry is through the fabric of both of their trousers. “Haz,” he groans.

“Hmm?” Harry hums innocently, even as he squeezes his fingers around the swell of Niall’s arse cheeks. 

“Your Mother is right down the hall,” Niall breathes against Harry’s lips. His protest is weak, especially so with the way he’s grinding his hips. 

“She’s getting ready for a shower,” Harry says- And then, as if on cue, the sound of running water can be heard through the wall, and Harry grins. “She won’t hear a thing.”

Niall smirks, pushing his hands through Harry’s hair before intertwining his fingers at the back of Harry’s neck. “You’re the worst.”

“And you need to loosen up a little, love,” Harry says, running both hands up Niall’s back beneath his t-shirt. “You’ve been wound tight all day. Just- Unwind a little.”

“And your plan to get me to unwind is to use your cock?”

Harry cocks his head. “You trying to tell me it isn’t working?”

Niall shakes his head, chooses that moment to grind down particularly hard on Harry’s dick. “Didn’t say that, did I? Was just- Making sure we’re on the same page.”

Harry surges forward to kiss Niall before pulling his shirt off over his head. He tosses it somewhere over the back of the couch, and then grips Niall’s arse again; he smirks when Niall moans into the shell of his ear. “We have to make it quick, though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall slurs, and then he’s shifting backwards before he slinks onto the floor. The quicker he can get his mouth around his husband, the less his knees will hurt, so-

Niall pulls at the waistband of Harry’s pants, drags them down over the swell of Harry’s arse, and his mouth waters at the sight of Harry’s cock. It’s getting hard, fattening up across his thigh — and Niall sort of aches for it, wants the weight of it in his mouth, on his tongue. They don’t have a lot of time right now, nor will they have time for anything but a quickie here, maybe there, over the next couple days — which is probably something they should have thought about before offering to host Christmas this year, so he’ll have to make quick work of Harry’s dick if he wants to loosen up any time soon. 

He wraps a hand around the base and then gives a slow, rough tug. He leans over Harry’s lap, keeps his gaze trained on Harry’s as he brings Harry’s dick closer to his mouth and then slaps the tip against his lips- Once, twice, three times before he sinks his head down. 

The moan that escapes Harry’s lips is sinful, and Niall wants to hear more of it. He relaxes his jaw, closes his eyes, wraps one hand around himself, groans at the way Harry’s fists a hand in his hair, and-

“-towels-“

They both scramble away from each other at the sound of Anne’s voice. Harry grabs the throw blanket off the back of the couch to throw it over himself, and Niall-

Niall is too mortified to move much further from where he sits on the edge of the coffee table. There’s also no way in hell that he’s going to turn around and face her right now, so he keeps his back to her as Harry struggles to save face by clearing his throat and telling her where she can find a couple of spare towels. Niall isn’t entirely sure what he’s feeling, other than absolutely mortified, but his heart feels like it’s in his throat and he’s pretty sure he might throw up. 

And, somehow, Anne telling them to “carry on” as she disappears back down the hall, the shower head in the bathroom still running, doesn’t make him feel any better. He doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry — or both.

He sits in silence for a long time, head in his hands as he stares at his feet. He knows that Harry is still sitting on the sofa across from him, can feel Harry watching him with bated breath. They’re both silent for a long time, and the tension in the air is thicker than the tension that had been in Niall’s shoulders all day long. 

“Niall,” Harry whispers, finally. The shower has stopped, but Anne has kept to the bedroom. “Niall, I-“

“She can’t stay here anymore, Harry,” Niall mutters. “She can stay with Gemma or- Or with my mum, even. But she can’t stay here.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Harry says softly, and Niall knows that he thinks he sounds reassuring. “It’s not like she actually saw anything.”

“She definitely saw me on my knees and she definitely knows exactly what I was doing there.”

“I mean, yeah- But-“

Niall pushes himself to his feet and grabs at his own hair. “She saw me with your dick in my mouth, Harry! I can’t look her in the eye anymore let alone be under the same roof as her.” In fact, this is the first time he’s even been able to look at his own husband since her voice rang in his ears and practically vibrated around the cock that had been more or less down his throat. 

“Okay,” Harry whispers. “That’s bad, I know, but-“

“That’s mortifying is what that is,” Niall snaps. 

“Niall-“

“You might be okay with the fact that your mum knew when you were being a slut in her house, but-“ He cuts himself off when he realizes what he’s just said. His eyes are wide as he stares at Harry, doubly mortified.

“That escalated quickly,” Harry mutters.

“I- I’m sorry,” Niall whispers. “I didn’t mean that. I really didn’t mean it like that, Haz, I just- Your mother just walked in on me gagging for your stupid fucking dick, and I really don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to eat breakfast with her in the morning.”

“I don’t know what I should be more offended by,” Harry hums. “The fact that you just called me a slut, or that you just called my dick stupid.” He doesn’t sound mad, though, so Niall doesn’t feel as bad as he could for calling his own husband a slut — and not in a fun way.

Niall rolls his eyes, despite the stupid smirk tugging as his lips. “Shut up, idiot.”

“And now you’re just being rude-“

“Harry,” Niall groans. “This Christmas thing is just one disaster after another and you’re really not helping.”

Harry has the audacity to look smug as he sinks back against the sofa. “Then how about we finish where we left off a few minutes ago?”

Niall stares at him, deadpanned. “You’re joking, right?”

Harry shrugs. “You heard her, yeah? I doubt she’ll be coming back out any time soon.”

“I can’t with you,” Niall scoffs. “You’re a fucking lunatic.”

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who still wants to, you hypocrite.”

Niall stares at him for a single moment and then sighs as he climbs back into Harry’s lap. “I’m not getting on my knees for you again.”

Harry pouts. “Ever?”

“Until everyone is gone, at least.”

X

[Disaster Five; December 24, 2018]

“You have got to be kidding me,” Niall mutters as he stares at the tree in front of him. 

First, the tree had started to die — which, to Anne’s credit, is no longer the issue at hand. Because now the issue at hand is the fact that the lights on the tree just won’t turn on. And, honestly- Niall is about throw the damn tree off the balcony. (And not just because heading out to buy a fake tree with the lights built in sounds miles better than actually entering the kitchen at the moment.)

The kitchen is where Harry is with Anne. They’re preparing breakfast and coffee, and Niall knows that he should at least poke his head around the doorframe to say hi, but-

But Niall wasn’t kidding when he told Harry that he couldn’t look Anne in the eye again. The idea of facing his mother-in-law is almost as mortifying as the event that actually took place last night. The actual event was twice as mortifying as the Niall’s own mother walked in on him wanking when he was 11 years old — and it had taken three days for Niall to look his mother in the face. He needs time. 

Time, unfortunately, is pressed a little tighter than usual. Which is why he enters the kitchen anyway; finds Harry sitting on the counter next to stove, popping grapes into his pretty little mouth, whilst Anne stands in front of the stove, cooking. His stomach sort of twists when the chatter between them stops in his presence. 

Harry smiles, then. “Look who finally woke up,” he teases. 

“Look who’s making our guest cook breakfast,” Niall quips back.

“She makes the best omelettes,” Harry tells him. 

Niall smirks. “Well, considering you’re shit at making omelettes, I reckon it’s not hard to be better than you.”

Anne snorts.

Harry frowns. “Wow. Two against one, I see how it is.”

Niall laughs as he grabs his wallet off of the counter next to the fridge.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To either get a fake tree with the lights built in so I don’t have to do anything, or to just get a new string of lights — since ours no longer work, and I don’t really feel like chucking it off the balcony after all,” Niall explains. 

Harry smirks as he shakes his head. “You know you could just- Find the burnt out bulb and replace it, right?”

“That could take all damn day,” Niall points out. “And I promised Theo we’d take him to see Santa at the mall.”

“I bet you I can find it in about 10 minutes,” Harry says, hopping off the counter. “In fact, I bet I can find it before mum finishes that omelette.”

Fear strikes Niall right in the heart as he realizes that Harry exiting the kitchen for the living room to find the burnt out bulb means being left alone with Anne. He could, technically, follow Harry with the excuse of ‘helping him look’, but he’s also mildly afraid that Anne will know the real reason he doesn’t want to be in the kitchen and, well- He doesn’t want that either.

Harry most notice the terrified look on his eyes as he tosses his gaze over his shoulder on the way through the doorway because he throws a thumbs-up in Niall’s direction, behind Anne’s back. 

And the moment that follows Harry’s exit is just as awkward as Niall had imagined it being, until-

“So,” Anne hums, “about last night-“

“We don’t have to talk about last night,” Niall says, probably a little too quickly. He opens the fridge, more to distract himself than anything, and pulls out the water jug to pour himself a glass.

“I was just going to say that I slept like a baby,” she says, smiling gently.

Niall blinks, taken aback. “Oh. Well- Good, I’m glad.”

“And that I think you’re wonderful, no matter what you may think that I think.”

His breath catches in his throat, then, and he realizes that he shouldn’t have expected anything else. She’s basically a saint, after all. And, somehow, that very simple sentence manages to make him feel better — a little bit, at least.

“Now, seeing as your husband is tending to the tree emergency, could you please pass me the salt?”

Niall smiles rather sheepishly as he does what’s asked of him. And then he laughs because Harry shouts that he’s found the burnt bulb right before yelping when he hits his head on the wall. 

X

[Disaster Six; December 24, 2018]

“I WANT TO GO HOME!”

The outburst comes from absolutely nowhere, whilst Theo is sitting on Santa’s lap and right in the middle of Niall’s Instagram story-taking. One minute, Theo’s whispering something in Santa’s ear and then all of a sudden he’s crying and screaming and climbing down off the mall Santa’s lap. 

Niall scrambles to push his phone back into the pocket of his jacket just in time for Theo to run right into his legs. And, for a second Niall doesn’t know what to do except bend down to wrap his nephew in a hug. He tosses a look of confusion over his shoulder at Harry, who’s standing next to him, and he’s oddly relieved when he’s met with an equally confused glance on Harry’s part because at least he isn’t the only one that doesn’t know what the hell just happened. 

“Theo,” Niall murmurs, pushing him back ever-so-slightly in an attempt to get the boy to look at him. “Hey, buddy- What happened?”

“He isn’t real and I wanna go home!” he shouts, pushing his arms up in the air. 

Niall sighs as he pulls the four year-old up into his arms. Then, upon looking around, he becomes all too aware of just how many people Theo has caught the attention of. It’s not just Santa and the elves staring at them, it’s the parents and most of the other children standing in line to meet Santa as well. Some of the children who aren’t looking, aren’t looking because they’re too busy crying. And others are looking up at their parents, wondering what Theo meant when he said that Santa isn’t real. 

It’s basically utter chaos, and Niall- Niall loves hanging out Theo, loves when he gets to spend time with Theo without his parents (Greg, specifically) getting in the way — Niall’s the Cool Uncle, after all, but suddenly he sort of wishes that his brother were here. He doesn’t know what to do, is the thing. Having a meltdown in public is one thing, but- What do you when a four year-old seems to have convinced himself that Santa Claus isn’t real? 

“C’mon,” Harry whispers against the shell of his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

And, for a moment, Niall doesn’t think that Harry has ever had a better idea. So he holds Theo closer to his chest as the little boy cries and sobs and wails, And follows Harry blindly. 

Theo only begins to calm down five minutes into the drive home. His cheeks are red, his eyes are puffy, and he’s got snot and dry, salty tear stains everywhere. He looks a mess, but he’s calm. So calm, in fact, that Niall almost doesn’t even want to ask what had happened. 

“Hey, buddy,” Harry says, then — and when Niall looks at him, he’s turned almost all the way around to face Theo. “You wanna tell us what happened with Santa?”

Niall glances up in the rear view mirror and sees Theo pick at a frayed hole in the knee of his jeans.

“He wasn’t real,” Theo mutters.

“What do you mean?” Harry presses.

“His beard wasn’t real. He’s a fake Santa,” Theo whispers — and he looks sad again. Looks a little bit lost, even, and it breaks Niall’s heart a little bit. “Uncle Ni?”

Niall clears his throat, glances in the mirror again to see Theo looking out the window. “Yeah, lad?”

“Does that mean Santa isn’t real at all?”

Niall blinks, casts his gaze back to the road. He swallows hard around the lump in his throat, licks his dry lips, and-

“What do you say, Ni,” Harry starts, then, and it sort of startles Niall silent. “Should we let him in on the secret?”

“Secret?” Theo asks, sitting forward in his car seat. “What secret?”

Niall glances sideways at his husband, brows furrowed in confusion. Harry nods at him subtly, and he has no choice but to go along with whatever plan Harry has. 

Harry grins as he looks at Theo. “I can only tell you if you can keep it a secret too,” he says. 

Theo nods enthusiastically.

“The Santa you saw at the mall was an elf.”

“An elf?” Theo gasps, eyes wide as saucers. 

Harry nods. “He works for the real Santa. In fact, all the mall Santa’s this close to Christmas are elves.”

“Why?”

“Well, usually it’s because Santa can’t be everywhere all at once. But today is Christmas Eve, which means he’s getting ready for his trip around the world. The elves’ jobs are to report back to Santa what every little boy and girl tells them that they want so that Santa can do his very best job.”

“Wow!” Theo whispers, sounding like he’s in complete awe. “That’s so cool!”

Harry laughs. “Isn’t it?”

Theo wanders off on a tangent, then. He babbles happily about Santa and elves and reindeer, as he looks out the window — and Niall feels like his heart could burst as he pulls up to a red light. He rests his head back against the head cushion, looks sideways to find his husband looking back him, and he mouths two simple words: Thank you.

X

[Disaster Seven; December 24, 2018]

One minute, all the boys are having a snowball fight on the lawn in front of Niall’s and Harry’s building. The minutes that follow are all a bit of blur-

Until they’re bursting through the doors of the A&E because Bobby’s forehead won’t stop bleeding and Niall is afraid that he might have a concussion due to the fact that one snowball, which Niall had thrown at him, had had a small chunk of ice in the middle. 

A nurse takes Bobby to be seen almost immediately, despite the business of the emergency room, and then the only thing to do is wait. So Niall, Harry, and Greg all take a seat in the waiting room and- Wait. And wait. And wait.

And, as it turns out, Bobby doesn’t end up with a concussion. Just a big, bloody bruise and five stitches in the middle of his forehead.

X

[Disaster Eight; December 24, 2018]

Hours after leaving the hospital, Niall begins to regret almost every single choice he’s made today when Anne burns herself on a cookie tray. 

She’d taken it upon herself, much to Niall’s exhaustion-fueled delight, to bake some more cookies for dessert after Christmas dinner — because both she and Harry were skeptical that both the pumpkin pie and the apple pie wouldn’t be enough for everyone. And she’d almost made it. They’d almost made it through the bake without incident, when her arm caught the edge of the cookie sheet she’d just placed on the counter. 

In the end, all she’d needed was a cold water soak and a plaster — but Niall still couldn’t wait for the day to be over. 

X

[Disaster Nine; December 25, 2018]

Everything is going pretty smoothly first thing Christmas morning. The turkey has thawed quite nicely, the tree isn’t dead, nor are the lights on the tree. Things are no longer awkward with Anne, and Anne herself is in a great mood — which is the main thing that Harry had been worried about, wanting his mother to be happy come Christmas Day. Harry even manages to get the frozen shrimp ring in a sink full of cold water at a reasonable time. 

Things are looking good first thing Christmas morning, until Niall’s whole family arrive and the cold, hard tension between Denise and Greg can be felt in the air the minute they walk through the door. Theo seems rather unfazed, for the most part, seeing as he’s too excited about Santa having found him ‘just like mummy said he would’, but it makes Niall uncomfortable enough for the both of them. 

They don’t talk to each other, most of the morning. Denise spends most of her time alternating between Anne and Gemma until everyone opens their gifts. Their feud seems to take the back burner during the duration of the gift-opening, which is a small victory but a victory nonetheless — especially when Anne bursts into tears upon opening her gift from Harry: a pillow with her wedding photo with Robin printed into the fabric. (Harry sort of panics and immediately starts to apologize, offers to return it and get her something else. Anne, though, ends up smiling through her tears and telling him that it’s the best gift he could’ve given her this year.)

The moment Niall places the shrimp ring on the coffee table, among the crackers and the cheese and the other appetizers, is when all hell breaks loose. 

Niall doesn’t even know what they’re arguing about and, in all honesty, he doesn’t care because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what they’re fighting about — all that matters is that it’s Christmas and they’re fighting and Theo looks like he’s about to burst into tears, sitting in Harry’s lap. All that matters is that he sees himself in Theo at that age and it’s the last thing he wants. 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Niall shouts. 

Everything and everyone comes to a halt, then. Greg and Denise stare at him, mouths open, taken aback. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with the two of you, but it’s Christmas and now is not the time — nor is this the place — for the two of you to be at each other’s throats,” he hisses. “So either figure it out in private and be civil with one another, or leave. I won’t have you acting like this, especially in front of Theo.”

A moment of silence follows Niall’s outburst, then. During which Theo climbs out of Harry’s lap and walks over to Niall to hold his hand. Meanwhile, everyone continues to just... stare awkwardly. 

“You’re right,” Denise murmurs, finally. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.”

Greg nods his agreement, like it’s the best he can do.

“Good. Thank you.”

X

[Disaster Ten; December 25, 2018]

The thing about wine is that you can’t tell that it’s gone bad until you open the bottle and you’re left wondering where the hell the smell of vinegar is coming from. At least- That’s what happened when Niall opened one of the bottles he and Harry had picked up at Tesco the other day. In fact, that’s what happens when he opens the other three bottles they’d also picked up. 

He turns every bottle upside over the sink to empty them because he’s too exhausted to freak out. He’s too tired, too annoyed, too- Done with Christmas to care about the wine. His family and Harry’s family will just have to go without the wine and ration the beer instead, that’s all. That’s all.

Right?

“I dunno about you,” Harry breathes as he walks up behind Niall, “but I could really go for a glass of-“ He cuts himself off, upon realizing what Niall has done. “Did you just-“

“It was bad,” Niall says, gathering all four empty bottles in his arms before walking towards the pantry next to the fridge, which is where he stashes then. “They were all bad.”

Harry blinks, confused. “Bad how?”

Niall snorts. “You could maybe pour it over your chips, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Harry makes a face, “Ew.”

“Yeah. But- Whatever. It’s fine.”

Harry hums, though he sounds skeptical.

“Your mum likes beer, yeah?”

“She prefers wine.”

“Yeah, well- We’re fresh out,” Niall mutters. And he’s not going to freak out.

“She doesn’t mind cocktails, though. What kind of liquor do we have?”

“You mean what kind of liquor do you have?”

Harry smirks. “Haw-haw.”

Niall watches Harry rummages through the liquor cabinet, smirks as he pulls out a half full bottle of rum, full bottle of vodka, and a nearly empty bottle of tequila. Then, he smirks when Harry pulls out a fancy bottle of moscato as a second thought. 

“I’m thinking...a spiked cranberry fruit punch bowl. What do you think?”

Niall smiles as he runs a hand through Harry’s hair. “I think...” he trails off, doesn’t want to say what he’s really thinking so he settles for something else; “I think you better not keep our guests waiting, otherwise they might not think that this was all part of the plan.”

Harry grins, presses a kiss against Niall’s cheek. “As you wish, my darling.”

X

[Disaster Eleven; December 25, 2018]

It’s cutlery. It’s just cutlery. Or a lack thereof, Niall supposes. 

According to Harry, who’s just set the dining room table in anticipation of dinner being ready in only a few short hours, they’re missing exactly enough cutlery for one place setting. One. Which is Niall thinks is ridiculous, and he tells Harry as such, because he did a mental head count the other night to make sure they’d have enough and- 

They don’t have enough. They are, indeed, short exactly one place setting. Which means that Niall must have forgotten to count himself in the head count. 

It’s not really a disaster. It’s just cutlery, after all, so it’s not really a disaster, per say, but- Niall still feels like he’s having aneurysm. And Harry — poor, blessed Harry, can tell. 

“It’s fine, though, yeah?” Harry says. “Because we still have all that silver plastic cutlery. Looks just like real silverware, so- I’ll just use it and nobody will have to know.”

Niall nods, but remains silent. 

“Niall?” Harry murmurs, running his hand down Niall’s back. 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Niall says. 

“You are, but I’m telling you not to.”

“I’m not not,” Niall insists. “I’m just- Counting down the minutes until this disaster of a Christmas is over.”

Harry hums, kisses Niall’s cheek.

X

[Disaster 12; December 25, 2018]

The power goes out when the turkey is exactly 12 degrees from being done, right before Niall is about to turn on the elements for the vegetables. One minute, he’s pulling the thermometer out of the bird’s breast and telling Harry that he’s only a few minutes shy from turning on the burners — and then all of a sudden the entire flat is plunged into darkness, and Niall- 

Niall’s heart sinks. He closes his eyes, breathes through his nose, drowns out the murmurs from his mother and his father and his sister-in-law, and he counts; one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three- Because the power has to come back on. It has to. 

It’s Christmas. 

Five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven-

How many seconds should it take for the power to come back on if it’s just a fluke? 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s a fluke,” he hears Bobby say from the living room. “The whole building across the way, there, is pitch black.”

Ten Mississippi. 

“Ni, where are the matches?” Harry asks as he enters the kitchen, before he starts sifting through some of the drawers. “I checked the basket under the coffee table, but they aren’t there. I know I saw them the other day, but-” he cuts himself off, falls silent, presumably when his gaze lands on Niall. He sighs, then. “Niall, I’m sure the power will come back on shortly. It’s not-”

“A big deal?” Niall guess, snorting bitterly as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah- This Christmas has been full of non-big deals, so what hell is another one, yeah?”

Harry frowns.

Niall scoffs as he turns around to face his husband. “This whole thing- The last few days- Honestly, Harry, I’m regretting ever suggesting that we host Christmas dinner.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Niall laughs, though the sound isn’t humorous. “The last few days have just been one stupid disaster after another. Move over ‘12 Days of Christmas’, and hello 12 disasters of Christmas — and yes, I’ve been counting.”

“Yeah, but everything worked out in the end,” Harry reminds him, his voice soft.

“Yeah but look where it got us!” Niall finds himself shouting. It’s like every frustration he’s had leading up to this moment, begging to be screamed out, are indeed going to be screamed out after all. “It’s Christmas Day, my dad has stitches poking out of his forehead, Theo almost stopped believing in Santa Claus, your mother is acting like she didn’t see what she saw the other night but I sure as hell still feel weird about it, and now we can’t even pretend that none of this has happened over dinner because the bloody power has gone out and dinner isn’t even ready!”

Only then, when he realizes exactly how quiet the rest of the flat is — because the Christmas movie Theo had begged to watch on TV is, obviously, no longer playing. And only then does his stomach churn with the knowledge that everyone has heard him; everyone just heard him have a bloody meltdown. 

“Okay,” Harry whispers, rubbing Niall’s arms up and down. “You’re upset, and you’re frustrated, and I get it, Niall- I do. But it’s really not been as bad as you think it’s been. Everyone is fine, everyone is happy-“

“Everyone won’t be happy for long if the power doesn’t come back on soon,” Niall mutters. 

“If the power doesn’t come back on soon, then- We’ll figure it out,” Harry says. “We have more than enough crackers and cheese, and I know we still have some bread left over so I can make some sandwiches. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Niall shakes his head as he looks away. His eyes are burning, tears pricking at the backs of them, and his chest feels tight.

“You just- You need to calm down, a little bit, yeah? You need to relax, and just... Just stop trying to control everything and enjoy it for what it is.”

“It’s a disaster, is what it is.”

Harry sighs. “Ni-“

“The matches are in the top drawer in the vanity in the bathroom,” Niall tells him, avoiding whatever it is that Harry wants to tell him next. “I’m gonna head out to the convenience store.”

Harry’s brow furrows in confusion as Niall moves away from him. “What? Why?”

“It’s not like we can light every candle we have, Harry. They’re all scented and they’d give everyone a headache eventually.”

“Okay,” Harry murmurs. “I’ll come with you, then.”

“No, it’s- You can’t just leave everyone here,” Niall says. “I’ll go. I could the fresh air.”

“Okay,” Harry whispers. 

Niall can feel his husband watching him as he tugs his jacket over his shoulder. Harry seems worried, is the thing, and Niall hates that he is but- He just really, really needs a minute alone. It’s nothing to do with Harry or their families, it’s just...everything else. And, to prove it, he pulls Harry in for a brief kiss, a chaste peck on the lips. “Love you,” he whispers. 

X

[One Christmas Miracle]

He’s halfway down the first flight of stairs when he hears the door to the floor above open, and he knows it’s not a coincidence. So he stops, and he waits for Gemma to catch up to him — and then he follows as she walks right past him like she knows he’s going to fall into step. 

“I know you more or less said that you want to be alone right now, but I’m not your husband so I don’t have to listen to you,” is her excuse. 

Niall snorts. “Right.”

“You can talk to me, if you want,” Gemma says, glancing sideways at him as she smiles. “I’m all ears. Or not. Whichever you prefer.”

He decides not to talk. He also decides that her company, right now, isn’t entirely terrible. 

+

As it turns out, Gemma is even more annoying in the convenience store than Harry is. She’s everywhere, all over the place. She wants candy, and chocolate, and crisps — which Niall caves on, because they may wind up needing more snacks anyway, and she wants dip to go with the crisps. 

They’ve been alone together for all of five minutes — or however long it took to cross the road — and Niall is already getting a headache. She’s like a kid in a candy store, tugging at his sleeves and creating the most ridiculous excuses as to why Niall should by just about everything in the store. And Niall will never admit it, not to her or anyone else, but he sort of enjoys it. It’s a nice distraction from the fact that he’d been five seconds from bursting into tears when she’d joined him in the stairwell. 

Plus- She suggests buying more beer, so.

+

“I just wanted everything to be perfect,” Niall admits as they reach the second flight of stairs. 

Gemma hums, but then remains silent. She won’t press him for details, which he appreciates. She’s listening, though. 

“This is our first Christmas together, obviously. Neither one of us wanted to deal with three dinners, or feeling like we had to choose, so we decided to host it ourselves and I just- I wanted everything to be perfect. Greg’s and Denise’s flights getting fucked up- That was one thing. Even the thing with the rooms wasn’t that bad- I mean, it was, but-“

“My mother adores you,” Gemma says softly. “We both do. You know that, right?”

A shy smile tugs at his lips. “I know.”

“Seeing you in an utmost inappropriate position hasn’t changed that for her,” she tells him. “In fact, she’s hoping that you’ll be able to laugh about it next year rather than act like you’ve put up a wall.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m working on it.”

“Anyway- Continue.”

Niall draws out a sigh, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just, like- So many things have gone wrong these last few days, and I know I overreacted to a lot of them, believe me, but it’s just because I had my heart set on everything being perfect — and it’s been so far from perfect, Gem.”

Gemma stops walking, quite literally mid-step, and then she tugs at Niall’s sleeve until he, too, stops walking mid-step. “Who said it hasn’t been perfect?”

Niall’s brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“Who said that it hasn’t been perfect, Niall?” she asks again. 

“N-Nobody, but-“

“No ‘buts’,” she says. “Because do you want to know why nobody has said that?”

Niall blinks.

“Because it has been perfect,” she tells him. “Because it doesn’t matter that your tree almost died, it doesn’t matter that our parents were slightly injured doing something they love, it doesn’t matter that Harry had to make a spiked punch bowl to replace bad vinegar wine, and it really doesn’t matter that one of the place settings on the table are made up of plastic silverware.

“These last few days have been perfect because you’re you and Harry is Harry and we are all together and we’re celebrating this holiday together. Because that’s what it’s all about, Niall. Togetherness.”

Niall stares at her for long minute. His eyes are wet with unshed tears, his chest is tight with an un-cried sob, and his stomach feels like it’s full of something like butterflies. 

“The only disaster this Christmas has had is that you’ve been so focused on all the fixings that come with hosting everyone and everything that you forgot to just enjoy yourself. You forgot to have fun, Niall.”

And, well- She isn’t wrong. In fact, she’s so, so right. About everything. Which is why he hugs her without speaking, because he thinks that if he were to try to put his feelings into words right now he’d just end up sobbing into her shoulder. 

“Now,” she breathes as she pulls back, ruffling his hair like the older sister(-in-law) that she is. “Why don’t we go bring some light to party upstairs?”

+

Upon walking through the door, Niall is already feeling lightyears better than when he left — even if he is a little bit out of breath from climbing several flights of stairs. But the laughter, the sound of pure joy and happiness, echoing around the flat as he stands in the front hall and listens, makes him feel better about everything than he’s felt in days. 

He finds himself drawn towards the living room, where he leans against the wall and watches, through dim candle light flickering around the room, as his family plays what looks (and sounds) like the rowdiest game of scrabble he’s ever seen. Everyone is yelling, and smiling, and laughing. Everyone is completely unfazed by the lack of electric as the munch happily on shrimp and crackers and cheese and pickles. Everyone is happy. 

And everything is-

“See?” Gemma whispers in his ear as she squeezes him into a hug. “Perfect.”

He mouths “thank you” as she passes him by, smiles as she settles in between Anne and Maura on one side of the board. His gaze travels over everyone — over Bobby and Melanie, Greg and Theo and Denise, Chris- And then his gaze lands on Harry, who’s staring back at him as of waiting for a sign that it’s okay to approach. So Niall gives him a sign in the form of a tilt of his head, before he backs down the hallway towards their bedroom. 

“Thought you refused to have sex with me while our families are still in town,” Harry drawls as he enters the room.

Niall smirks, rolls his eyes. “I still do refuse.”

Harry hums. “Then what are we doing in here?”

“Just, you know,” Niall murmurs, catching the fabric of Harry’s shirt in his fingers to pull him closer. “Wanted to see you. Wanted to apologize-“

“There’s no need,” Harry says, shaking his head. 

“There is a need, actually,” Niall argues. He folds his arms around Harry’s neck and plays with the short little curls there, as Harry’s hands land on his hips. “I’ve been sort of horrible the last few days, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry whispers. 

Niall shakes his head. “I was like- The Christmas Godzilla,” he scoffs. 

Harry laughs, rolls his eyes. “You weren’t that bad, I promise.”

“I was pretty bad,” he insists. “And to think- You’re usually the one that’s wound too tight, and I’m the one that’s calm, cool, and collected.”

“I was only as calm as I had to be because I could tell you were freaking out,” Harry admits. 

Niall sighs, cards a hand through Harry’s hair. “I just wanted everything to be perfect, you know? It being our first Christmas together, and all.”

“I know,” Harry whispers. “I know you did. And maybe things haven’t been absolutely perfect, but-“

Niall shushes him softly, pressing a finger to his lips gently. “This is perfect,” he murmurs. “You and me, our family- That’s all that matters. Everything else is just fixings. But this, and that out there- That’s the only perfection I need.”

Harry grins. “You are such a sap sometimes.”

“Yeah, well- You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Speaking of rubbing off,” Harry hums, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he steals a kiss. “I can’t wait to rub off with you again.”

“You’re insatiable,” Niall laughs, pulling Harry in closer, kissing him deeper. “Happy Christmas, Haz.”


End file.
